


Dawn at the House of Winds

by Magikenz



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-09-01 08:04:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8616130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magikenz/pseuds/Magikenz
Summary: Rhys and Feyre are getting some much needed rest in the House of Winds. It's been almost a hundred years since the defeat of Hybern and his forces. I thought that after the title release, I would write some nice fluff. All of these characters belong to Sarah J Maas. Comments and kudos are appreciated.





	

The House is silent today. I open my eyes and look out the window at the sun peaking around the mountains, painting the sky pink and orange. Behind me, Rhys stretches and scoops my body closer. 

"Morning," I say. 

"Is it? Damn." 

I laugh softly. "Should've come to bed when I did." 

"I had work." 

I roll to face him, kissing his cheek. "Don't we mean more to you than work?" 

His eyes shine, "Always, darling." 

I smile and kiss him. "I need a bath," I say. 

"With or without your High Lord?" 

I sniff him. "With. You smell like a cow that got locked in a sauna." 

"Well don't sugar coat it." 

I laugh, break out of his arms, and stretch. I start to the bathing room. He watches, propped up on an elbow, as I strip my lace and silk pajamas off, letting them pool on the floor. I trail my fingertips over my swelling abdomen, and hear a sharp intake of breath from my mate. 

He must winnow into the bathroom, because in seconds he's wrapping his arms around me. The feeling of his bare chest against my back sends chills down my spine. The bond between us tightens as he leaves a trail of kisses down my neck. I drop my head back on his shoulder. For a few seconds we stand there, entertained with one another. He rubs a hand over my stomach. 

Then, "I really do need to bathe." 

He smirks against my skin. "I agree." 

I smack his shoulder and clamber into the tub. The warmth webs its way up my legs as I sink into the water. There's a light splash as he steps in behind me. Like all of the furniture in the house, the tub is fashioned to accommodate his wings. 

"Did you have a nightmare last night," he asks. He takes the sponge off the side, and starts to rub in gentle circles. 

"Yes," I admit. 

We still have nightmares, even after a century of peace. 

I still wake up, screaming and sweating, as Rhys shakes my shoulders. 

I wake up sometimes because cold darkness is wafting off of my mate in glittering waves. On those nights, I glow and chase that power away with my own while tugging hard on our bond. 

"What was it about," he asks. He rinses off the sponge, and I turn to wash him. 

"The same thing. Elaine and Nesta battling Jurian." I close my eyes. The smell of blood and the sound of female screaming fills the air. I struggle to shove it away, to remain in the moment. I feel Rhys's hands tighten on my biceps. 

My sisters had won, but barely. And Elaine had been scratched in the face so badly with an ash wood stake that she'd lost her sight.

"They are alive," Rhys whispers.

I nod. Because he's right, they are.

Elaine has made her peace with blindness. She now lives with Lucien in the Spring Court, a lovely and gentle presence that the people absolutely adore. 

And Nesta lives here, in her own house with Cassian.

I smile to myself, thinking about their fierce acceptance of the mating bond.

"I know," I say aloud. I open my eyes again, breathe in the scent of the jasmine oils, and gaze at the sunrise.

With the sponge finished, we relax into the tepid water. I warm it with a flick of my finger. He rests his chin on my shoulder and encircles me in those strong arms. Together, we lean back and rest against the end of the tub.

"What are we naming her?" 

"Or him," I say. 

"Or him," he amends. 

"I was thinking Archer," I say. After the surname I will never use again. After my father, who gave so much in the end. 

I feel him nod. I can hear him thinking in murmurs in the back of my mind. 

"And if it's a girl?" 

"If it's a girl then Persephone?" 

Rhys contemplates again. "It has a nice ring to it." 

"Rhys, how would a daughter--how would she be--live? In Velaris?" Though it had been a long time since Mor told me about her life before the Court of Dreams, I can't shake the feeling that this baby might be in danger of becoming a pawn. 

"Any child of ours might be hunted by some who see fit to breed whatever portion of our power they inherit," he says bluntly. 

We've always been honest with each other, but I can't help the way my heart shrivels in the face of such news. I inhale sharply. 

"But they will feel the combined wrath of Cassian, Az, Mor, and Nesta." 

I turn to face him. His violet eyes are glimmering humorously. 

"And let's not forget that Amren might be unchained at some point." He smiles at the thought of what her power could do to the nations. "And then there are the doting family friends in the Spring Court." 

He rests a hand on my stomach, "And our child will have the greatest High Lord and Lady of all time as their parents. Never forget that." 

I return his smile, but still have my doubts. He sees. 

"Nothing will take our children from us, Feyre," he whispers, resting his forehead on mine. "Not in a thousand years." He tugs on the bond as if pleading with me to release that tension that I've balled in my chest. 

He kisses me, slowly and gently, and I yield. I push away thoughts of our unborn child's future, our bloody past. The present, right here in this bathtub, is all that I need right now. I open my eyes as Rhys leans back, exposing himself. A smirk is playing around his mouth. I let myself release a devilish laugh. 

I'm sure that far off in the Illyrian mountains, someone heard my mate's roar. 


End file.
